Bookmarker is a personal project by @dellsystem to help with retaining reading material. Source on GitHub.

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You edited a note
4 years, 10 months ago

Ultrasound misc/poetry topic/the-passage-of-time

Blackboard covered with a dust
 of living chalk, live chaos-cloud
  wormed by turbulence: the rod glides

and the vet narrates shadows
 I can’t quite force into shape:
  His kidneys might . . . the spleen appears . . .

I can’t see what he sees, and so
 resort to simil…

—p.8 School of the Arts by Mark Doty
You added a note
4 years, 10 months ago

Ultrasound misc/poetry topic/the-passage-of-time

Blackboard covered with a dust
 of living chalk, live chaos-cloud
  wormed by turbulence: the rod glides

and the vet narrates shadows
 I can’t quite force into shape:
  His kidneys might . . . the spleen appears . . .

I can’t see what he sees, and so
 resort to simil…

—p.8 by Mark Doty
You added a note
4 years, 10 months ago

Heaven for Helen misc/poetry topic/love

Helen says heaven, for her,
would be complete immersion
in physical process,
without self-consciousness —

to be the respiration of the grass,
or ionized agitation
just above the break of a wave,
traffic in a sunflower’s thousand golden rooms.

Images of exchange,
and of untrammeled natu…

—p.1 by Mark Doty
You edited a note
4 years, 10 months ago

He Studies to Describe misc/poetry

He studies to describe
the lover he cannot become
failing the widest dreams of the mind
& settling for visions of God

The tatters of his discipline
have no beauty
that he can hold so easily
 as your beauty

He does not know how
to trade himself for your love
Do not trust him
unless…

—p.239 Selected Poems 1956-1968 New Poems (219) by Leonard Cohen
You added a note
4 years, 10 months ago

He Studies to Describe misc/poetry

He studies to describe
the lover he cannot become
failing the widest dreams of the mind
& settling for visions of God

The tatters of his discipline
have no beauty
that he can hold so easily
 as your beauty

He does not know how
to trade himself for your love
Do not trust him
unless…

—p.239 New Poems (219) by Leonard Cohen